


Breakdown

by LadyWallace



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Big Brother Dean, Episode Tag: s14e16, Gen, Hugging, Hurt/Comfort, Post 14x16, Sam is in a bad place
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2020-01-04 15:27:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18346439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyWallace/pseuds/LadyWallace
Summary: Post 14x16 -It was only a matter of time before Sam fell. Dean's just been waiting to catch him





	Breakdown

**Author's Note:**

> Everyone's been talking about Sam's inevitable breakdown this season so I thought I would jump the gun and write this one shot so we could have that and the hurt/comfort feels to go along with it. This is set after 14x16

He supposed that somewhere in the back of his mind he had known it was coming. He'd known that the lack of sleep, the disinterest in eating, the constant wearing himself down by going on one hunt after another was going to catch up to him. He just hadn't expected to fail in the middle of a chase and put the rest of his family in danger.

They had been tracking down some of Michael's monsters, trying to eradicate what was left of them, and their mom had gotten a lead on where a group of them was hunting so Sam had urged Dean and Cas to go out there to help her. Dean had obviously agreed, though he had cast Sam several meaningful looks, suggesting he stay with Jack since the kid was still a little shaky after the whole Michael thing. But Sam had protested, of course. They didn't know what they were walking into with Michael's monsters, and it would only take a couple days to clean up the mess.

He should have stayed.

They'd ended up in the woods, chasing down a pack of supercharged werewolves and Sam felt every sense in his exhausted body heightened. His hands shook on the butt of his gun, his legs trembled as he forced himself into a jog following the path the monsters had taken.

He heard a scream and pushed himself into a run.

Somewhere in the distance he heard the others calling his name, but Sam kept going.

He stumbled on the path, gun flying from his hand as he looked up.

A young woman lay in the loam in front of him, throat ripped out, blood everywhere. Her eyes stared vacant and terrified up at nothing.

"Oh god," Sam choked out, reaching out to touch her throat instinctively even though there was nothing but mangled flesh beneath his fingers, no pulse to find. His hands shook as he pulled them back, covered in her still warm blood. He'd been only seconds too late, the blood still seeping into the dead leaves around his knees. "Oh god no, please no."

Memories flashed through his mind, the same images he saw every time he closed his eyes anymore. The dead hunters littering the bunker, torn to shreds, bleeding, eyes burned out. Maggie most of all—the young woman had survived so much, become a reliable lieutenant to him, and she was gone too, just like the others. It had taken days for him and Dean and Cas to burn the bodies, clean all the blood from the bunker. He couldn't get the smell out of his nose for days, or the feeling of blood from his hands.

And now it was all crashing down and he found he couldn't move. He couldn't breathe. Everything had culminated into this moment here, on his knees in the woods with yet another person he couldn't save, her blood soaking into the knees of his jeans.

Sam felt himself spiraling out of control and didn't have the strength to even bother trying to stop.

_~~~~~~~_

_Dean watched Sam run off_ after one of the monsters. They'd caught a straggler probably trying to return to the rest of the pack.

And then the scream.

Dean sped up, boots pounding in the leaves before he came to a halt, seeing Sam kneeling beside the body of a young woman.

"Sammy?" Dean called. "You see it?"

There was no reply. Just Sam's shoulders shaking, his whole body shaking, actually. Dean frowned, stepping forward cautiously, reaching out a hand to grip his brother's shoulder.

"Sam?"

A growl sounded and before he could turn around, something slammed into him. Dean was borne to the ground, hitting his elbow and causing his gun to go skittering off into the leaves as he threw his arms up, gripping the monster around the throat as its fanged mouth hung over him, drooling as it strained to reach his neck.

"Sam!" Dean cried. "Little help!"

He glanced over but Sam still knelt, completely still except for the shuddering, head bowed and not seeming aware of anything.

The wolf growled and slammed Dean's head back against the ground, making him see stars for a moment. His grip nearly faltered, but more footsteps ran up and the wolf was dragged from him, howling as an angel blade pierced its heart.

Dean looked up, seeing his mom and Cas on the scene. Cas let the wolf drop, retrieving his blade as Mom reached down to help Dean to his feet.

"Are you okay?" she asked worriedly.

Dean grimaced as he wiped a little were drool off his cheek but nodded. "Yeah."

He turned back to Sam who was still kneeling and hurried over, gripping his shoulder. "Sammy, Sam, what the hell, man?"

"I can't, I—I cant," Sam whispered, looking down at his bloody hands. "Sh-she's d-dead… They're all dead."

Dean felt his heart clench as Cas and Mom came over cautiously, seeing what had happened. "Sammy? Kiddo? Are you hurt?" He knelt and searched Sam for wounds, but the only blood on him wasn't his own.

Cas gently laid a hand on Sam's head, closing his eyes for a moment before he looked back at Dean, shaking his head. "There's nothing wrong with him, he just seems…" He seemed at a loss for words, shrugging helplessly.

But Dean knew. He had seen it coming, though he hadn't thought it would be this bad. Still, with the lack of sleep and the heavy stress, it was no wonder Sam's collapse was so violent.

"He can't stay out here," Dean said.

"You go," Mom told him. "Get Sam back to the motel. Cas and I will finish up here."

Dean didn't need any more urging. He crouched and pulled Sam to his feet with Cas' help, then pulled his brother's arm over his shoulders. Sam stumbled, but went almost docilly, as if he were still locked somewhere in his mind. Dean had a tight knot of worry in his stomach. He'd seen Sam bad off, he'd seen him break down before, but this? This was a breakdown to end all breakdowns.

Thankfully it wasn't far to the car and Dean opened the passenger side and urged Sam in. He then drove as quickly as possible back to the motel, all the time, Sam sat staring out the window, still trembling every once in a while, hands wringing together in his lap.

Once they got back Dean sat his brother on one of the beds and then saw the blood still on his hands. He went to the bathroom to get a wet cloth, and came back, taking Sam's hands in his and scrubbing the blood from them, talking to him as he did it.

"Look, Sam, I don't really know what's going on in that head of yours right now, but you gotta come back to me, man. You know nothing is going to be solved like this." Sam shuddered and blinked, but still didn't respond.

Dean sighed and threw the cloth onto the bedside table before reaching into his jacket and pulling out a flask. He pressed it to Sam's mouth and urged him to drink.

The shock of the liquor on his tongue seemed to snap Sam out of his daze a little at least. He sputtered and jerked away before his eyes finally came up and focused on Dean who was crouching in front of him, one hand on his knee.

"Sammy?"

Sam blinked several times, looking around, seeming confused at being in the motel room. "Wh-what…?"

"You kinda, uh…froze out there," Dean told him. "You okay?"

Sam huffed out a breath, slowing shaking his head. "No," he finally said, and slumped, head hanging between his shoulders as he covered his face with his hands.

Dean pressed his lips together and shoved all the stuff on the side table aside so he could sit there and face his brother.

"What's going on with you, Sammy? Talk to me."

"I—I can't…"

"Sam look, I know losing the hunters hit you hard, I know you felt responsible, but you weren't. Not really."

"But I was," Sam insisted. "I led then, I was supposed to protect them. It was my duty to keep them safe."

"They were soldiers, Sam, they knew the risks. The hunting they did here was a milk run compared to what they endured in apocalypse world."

"What about Maggie?" Sam demanded. "She died right in front of me, and, god, I couldn't do anything! I couldn't even move."

Dean heard the pain in Sam's voice and it was like a knife to his heart.

"Sam, hey, look at me," Dean tried, gripping his brother's shoulder and leaning over to try and meet his eyes. "This is not all on you. If Michael hadn't gotten out of my head, this never would have happened. I should have thrown myself in the ocean when I had the chance. That's on me."

Sam shook his head. "I talked you out of it."

"Yeah you did, and hell, maybe I'm grateful for that, Sammy," Dean said firmly, and he realized for the first time that he truly meant that.

Sam hunched over, looking small and lost, his eyes wet and staring off at the wall. "I couldn't lose you, Dean. I never once thought of letting you do that for the greater good, I only just thought of making sure you didn't because I couldn't lose you. But I couldn't save you either. Not really. I put your life over the hunters…I…I was responsible for them, but I chose you." He choked back a sob and finally turned to Dean, shaking his head. "And what's worse is that I don't regret it. Not at all. I would watch them die all over again if it meant saving you, and I feel terrible, but that's the truth. And so my punishment is that I can't stop watching them die. How could I be so selfish?"

Dean watched his brother crack again, curling into himself as he tried to hold back the sobs that threatened to burst from him. He sighed and ran a hand over his face. "Sam, what you're going through, survivor's guilt or whatever, trust me, I know it's hard, I know. It's hard being a leader and watching the people you're responsible for die. But one way or another it probably wouldn't have been avoided anyway. You know how dangerous this life is, so did they. But this guilt, Sam? You've gotta let it go, man. It's killing you."

"Maybe it should," Sam whispered. "I should have died with them."

Dean grabbed his arm, shaking him hard, suddenly angry. "What the hell would I do then? We need you, Sammy."

"Do you really?" Sam snorted looking up at him with red-rimmed eyes, a twisted grimace on his face. "I screw everything up. I couldn't help you get rid of Michael, I couldn't help Jack, not really, and now I can't even hunt anymore. Look at me, Dean, I'm a mess. I can't even keep myself together. What good am I to anyone?"

Dean reached out and grabbed his face between his hands, forcing Sam to look at him. "Don't ever let me hear you say that again," he growled. "Sam, you are a freakin' hero. What you did with the hunters was freakin' amazing. Bobby would be damn impressed. And Jack, he looks up to you and with a little guidance I know you can help him get back on the right track." He shook Sam slightly for emphasis. "And most importantly you're my brother. And I'm sure as hell not letting you go."

A tear finally escaped and slid down Sam's cheek. "I couldn't save you," he whispered.

Dean shook his head, brushing the errant tear away with his thumb. "I'm still here, little brother. For better or worse. It may have all been out of our hands, but Michael's still dead, and so is Lucifer, and what's done is done. We may not be out of the woods yet, but I'm actually starting to see a light at the end of the tunnel."

"I can't," Sam whispered brokenly.

Dean sighed heavily, his heart breaking inside his chest. He slid his hands down and cupped Sam's neck, holding his brother's head high for him. "Sammy, this guilt, you gotta let it go," he repeated. "You gotta get past this. And I know it's not gonna be easy, but you're not alone, so stop pretending to be. That's all you've done since I got back, and it's killing you. You gotta know that; just let it go. Or at least let me, and Cas and Mom, let us help you carry the weight. Just let us help you, because you know you can't live like this."

"Everything is just…" Sam couldn't finish, another tear sliding down to his chin as he fought to blink back the rest.

"I know. I know, Sammy," Dean said, stroking one hand through his hair. "I know."

"I'm just so tired," Sam choked out, a sob catching in his throat.

Dean pulled him into his arms and Sam slumped against him with a shuddering sigh. "Then rest. I got you, little brother."

Sam held onto him as he finally collapsed and started shuddering with silent sobs, and Dean wasn't about to let him go. He shifted to sit up against the headboard and pulled Sam back against him, resting his chin on his brother's head while he tried to soothe him, even rocking him slightly; completely falling back to the times he had soothed Sammy after nightmares as a kid.

Just like back then, Sam cried himself into exhaustion but Dean knew he would be ready to face the world again when he woke up. Perhaps a little shaky, perhaps with a few more scars, but Sam had family who would hold him up. Dean knew they all needed to remind themselves that they didn't need to be strong all the time. They were all terrible at that, sure, but maybe they could get better. Maybe this would help.

Regardless, by the time their mom and Cas got back from the hunt, the two brothers were both sound asleep, Dean's arms still protectively wrapped around Sam.

No, nothing in their lives would ever be easy, and there were more dark days to come, but if they could stand together then they had a chance of getting out on the other side.

After all, that's just what family did.


End file.
